Thursday, August 8, 2013
Naming our anger, calling it what it is and bringing it out into the light of day is far healthier than keeping it locked up inside. Remember, living things don't stay buried forever. They always find a way to come out.
When I was growing up, my family was very secretive about sex. My parents never talked about it. It was something dark, sinister, and bad. No matter whose household I was in, my own or one of my grandparents' homes, that was the atmosphere when it came to sex. I realize part of that was generational.
But there was another part. A part that knew sex as dirty and shameful and secretive instead of a beautiful gift. Even though my parents were as closed as they could be about sex and all things related to that topic, I managed to shine a bright light on the family dysfunction. How could I possible know about a history of sexual abuse in my family when no one told me? How could I know the thing that would shame my family the most?
Consciously I didn't. But I believe that my subconscious knew something wasn't right and was trying to work it out. Maybe I sensed that my parents' marriage wasn't all it could be. Maybe I felt that someone in our family should be having sex, so why not me?
This is an example of living things that don't stay buried forever.. they always find a way to come out. I know how crazy it sounds, but I've had lots of years to think about this. And I don't think it's any coincidence that my actions shined a bright light on our family's dysfunction. I think there's more to it than that.
So more than you wanted to know about me and my family and definitely not what I was planning to write about. But here it is.